As Always
by SilveryMoon34
Summary: NekoAngel07's brilliant idea that she graciously allowed me to play with. In the year 2037 war threatens on the horizon for England. To stop it an elite team of soldiers has been sent into hostile territory to take out the threats. Leading them is the world's most unlikely duo-the serious and capable captain Arthur, and his cheeky and overly chatty Navigator, Merlin. Eventual A/M
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

He woke up to the sound of several sharp, electronic pips, all in quick succession. Barracks Camelot's version of a good morning. He rolled over, slamming his hand down on the offending piece of tech. The pips instantly silenced, but that was no relief, as he was then instantly dazzled by the glow of the holoscreen that flared to life inches from his face.

_Good morning, Arthur Pendragon. The time is 8:00 am, on December 8__th__, 2037. _It went on to helpfully list his "engagements" for the day, in neat little bullet points.

Ah, that's right. His whole identity now was that of Arthur Pendragon, legendary knight and king. Perhaps giving everyone attached to the Knights Initiative the names of the legendary king's court was a bit over the top, but Arthur personally liked it. It had a nice ring to it—Captain Arthur Pendragon….And besides, with war looming over their heads like a storm cloud straight from hell, over the top might be just what the people needed…

Arthur hopped off his bunk, in surprisingly good spirits despite the rude awakening. The holoscreen followed him, highlighting his first task for the day as he grabbed his uniform top.

"Fitting? What for?" he grunted, pulling it over his head.

"For tonight's meet and greet. The dress code is formal," the tech chirped back at him in its annoyingly girly, perky voice.

"Oh. Right." He and his Knights would be meeting their Navigators for the first time tonight. Personally, he'd pass on such an irritatingly stuffy affair, but the bond between a knight and his Navigator was even more vitally important than the bond between the Knights. This first meeting was crucial to that bond starting on the right track. And besides, he had to set a good example for his men…

Arthur sighed, his thoughts shifting to his own Navigator. What sort of man would he be? Navigators as a rule were serious, dedicated individuals—they had to be, seeing as their bird's eye view of the field often afforded them a kind of life or death power over the knights in their care….

He snorted at the image that created in his mind—a sharp faced, pointy hooked nosed man with huge yellow eyes and a fixed look of serious contemplation.

"For ceremony's sake, I hope not," he muttered to himself, shoving his feet into his boots.

Upon standing, he turned, staring into the full length mirror that sat unobtrusively in the corner of his room. Even their uniforms had been designed with a nod to medieval times. Tunic-like red synth shirt, with synth hide ties at the throat. Ruffled cuffs, brass buttons. Brown synth leather pants with a cord tie instead of buttons…

He eyed the sharp, blue-eyed blond in the mirror with satisfaction. Over the top? Most definitely. But damn he made it look good. Winking at himself, he turned and sauntered from the room.

…**..**

Several hours later, and Arthur was striding along the almost clinically white boardwalk that connected Barracks Camelot to the Pavilion, the main meeting-place of the Knights' compound.

The new formal uniform was a strange thing, much like his every day one, but looser and itchy in weird places. He resisted the urge to scratch, but only just, as he passed through the doors into the Pavilion.

The maintenance crew really outdid themselves—they turned the boring old room into a ballroom fit for a royal court. Soft yellow light from glass chandeliers above put a light gold tone on everything, making the formerly whitewashed walls and wood paneled floor gleam. Lacy cloth covered tables adorned one side, behind a line of faux Greek pillars. Low strains of classical music reverberated around the room, with no obvious source. It was…surprisingly beautiful. Almost worth all the fuss. Almost.

Though he was not late, the majority of his Knights were already present, mingling with new people Arthur assumed were Navigators. Looking at them, he could almost feel as if he had been sent back in time, to the England of old. Instead of the crisp uniforms he was used to, soft fabrics of various colors caught his eye, the flouncy skirts of long dresses on the women and the ends of tunics on the men moving as the crown shifted.

He didn't have much time to observe, however, before a slender, bangled arm slipped through his, drawing his attention.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Morgana, his raven-haired second, grinned at him, eyes glinting mischievously.

"I suppose that means you had a hand in it? Fishing for complements isn't very ladylike of you." Arthur returned, lips pulling up in a slight smirk.

"I helped! And there's nothing wrong with having a bit of pride in helping to create something beautiful for a change." She pulled on his arm. "Come on. Come meet the other half of our team."

Arthur let her pull him over to the group, trying and failing to hide his slight smile. Morgana, in her bubbly moods, had that effect on people.

She grabbed the wrist of a sandy, curly-haired man in blue, getting his attention, as well as that of the rest of the group. "My Navigator, Leon. Leon, Captain Arthur."

As they exchanged hellos, a beefy arm slung itself over Arthur's shoulders. "And hello to you too, Percy."

"Captain's here? Hide the juice!" A familiar voice called out over Percy's rumbling chuckle.

"Oh shut it, Gwaine." Arthur rolled his eyes. The scruffy defense expert came into view, tottering a bit already, a concerned Lancelot and wary Elyan in tow.

One by one, like eager children, they introduced their new Navigators to him. Percy's was a small, pale, frail-looking young woman named Freya, a striking contrast to Percy's large size and glowing tan. Gwaine's was a stocky, blunt-mannered youth named Will. Elyan's a coffee-skinned, buzz cut young man by the name of Ewan…

Lancelot's…_wow_. She was dark-skinned, like Elyan, her curly hair pinned up in an elaborate bun. She and Elyan both had proud cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. Was she his sister…?

"Guinevere, Captain. But you can call me Gwen." Her words were rushed, nervous, her dark eyes fixed on his collar rather than his face, her clasped hands fidgeting in front of her.

Arthur's eyebrow rose. "_I_ can?"

It was too easy. She blushed, stammering out quickly, "Uh, what I meant was, everyone can. Sir."

"Ah, Captain. There you are." Gwen, happy the focus was no longer on her, sidled back to Lancelot as Arthur turned to the new voice. Uther, the official head of the Knights division, clapped a hand on his shoulder, gradually steering him away from the crowd.

"So, I take it they're all to your satisfaction?" There was a hint of playfulness in the elder's tone, not to mention his smile. Gwaine hadn't been the only one nipping at the bottle tonight, apparently.

"Yes, but there seems to be someone _missing_." Namely, Arthur's own Navigator.

"I'm sorry, Captain. He should be along shortly." This didn't come from Uther but Gaius, the smartly dressed head physician. The grandfatherly Gaius looked uncharacteristically nervous, shifting his glass from hand to hand. His smile looked more like a grimace as Uther clapped his shoulder.

"There you have it. If Gaius said it, it must be true. Enjoy the party, you two."

Arthur had just turned back to rejoin Morgana and the rest, when the music suddenly cut out. With a burst of static, it roared back to life, only what came back was not the soft thrum of musical instruments but a voice.

"You're the voice try and understand it. Make a noise and make it clear, ohhhh woahhhh. We're not gonna sit in silence, we're not gonna live with fear, ohhhh woahhh."

As the new music blasted through the ballroom, the double doors Arthur had come through earlier flew open again, revealing another figure. When he came in, the music died down. He strolled right in, and right up to Arthur. "Navigator Merlin, at your service!" he enthused.

Arthur stared. _You've got to be kidding me_.

The other Navigators—hell, everyone present—were nicely dressed, well groomed, and professional in look and manner. This one was a train wreck on legs. Black hair, ruffled and sticking up in all directions as if he'd just rolled out of bed, his bright red tunic rumpled and askew, as if he'd run most of the way. But the "cherry" on top was the biggest, widest grin Arthur had ever seen on so slender a face. It made Arthur want to punch him already.

"Really?" Arthur managed, turning to Uther. His barely concealed glare spoke volumes.

The older man's smile instantly turned sharper, distinctly less intoxicated, and closer to something more menacing. "Yes, of course! Merlin here is the best the Navigators have produced in years, practically a _wizard_ with the command center console. The Captain needs the best after all, doesn't he?" Uther clapped his shoulder one last time with a wicked smirk, moving away with an apologetic Gaius.

Arthur glared after the father figure of his later years. His own words from a week prior, thrown back at him. How long had the older jerk been sitting on _that_ one?

Meanwhile, his new Navigator chattered on obliviously at his back. "Was that too much? Gaius warned me it was too much…"

Arthur sighed. _God save us all_.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: And here lies the second chapter, a chapter that probably proves I game too much. Oh well. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 2**

_Beep beep beep beep beep_

Arthur groaned, slapping at his side table, but it wasn't his alarm this time. It was a message. The holoscreen came up, dazzling him again.

_Training at the Colosseum, with battle gear. Bring your Knights. _-U

"Fun times are over, apparently," he noted dryly, batting the holoscreen away and rolling out of bed.

**….**

The Colosseum was a modified amphitheater (the "modified" bit meaning it was bloody huge—the size of two professional soccer fields, at least) at the heart of the Knights' compound. The Knights would battle simulated conditions and enemies on the field while their Navigators would look out for them from above—where the projector room would be, in a normal theater.

"Look alive, my pretties. This is the day we've been training all this time for." Arthur smirked around the changing room, at all the gray faces looking at him blearily. Everyone (except Morgana) had the distinct hangdog look that accompanied one after a long night of alcoholic frolicking.

"There's a special place in hell for people like you and Uther, Pendragon," Gwaine groaned.

"I'll see you there, Gwaine. But until then, get your arses up and _get moving_. We haven't got all day."

As they filed past him—"Well, that was a rousing speech, Captain."

"God! _Mer_lin!" He turned sharply at the sound of a voice suddenly near his elbow. "What the hell? You're supposed to be upstairs with the other Navigators!"

"Ah. Yeah. I know. It's just that I feel we got on the wrong foot yesterday-"

Arthur sighed deeply, pinching his nose slightly and shutting his eyes to the earnest face now looking at him like a kicked puppy. "Look, as lovely as this conversation is, I'm sure it can happen later, at a more _appropriate_ time."

"Yeah, I know. But seeing as we're about to be-"

"_Mer_lin."

"….Right." The smaller youth ducked quickly past him, avoiding eye contact. Arthur followed, shaking his head.

Several minutes later, and they were filing out onto the field. An assistant—a pretty, dark-haired woman with a long braid—waited there, a large box on a stand next to her.

"Each earpiece is marked with the color coding of each pair," she told Arthur helpfully as he approached.

"Thank you…?"

"Nimueh."

"—Nimueh." She beamed, handing him a chart before scurrying off the field.

The chart listed each pair and their colors. His and Merlin's was red. Percy and Freya's yellow. Lancelot and Gwen's blue. Gwaine and Will's dark green. Elyan and Ewan's silver. Morgana and Leon's purple…

He memorized the list as he passed out each earpiece. "This is your communicator. It is your direct link to your Navigator, and should you get separated, your fellow Knights. In the field, it is absolutely _vital_ that you keep it activated and on your person at _all _times."

He stared around (ignoring Morgana's expected eye roll) until each gave a nod of confirmation that the message had been received. "Good. Put them on."

Arthur put his on as well. The device activated automatically upon contact with his skin, booting up with a soft _whirr_…

"**BABY TELL ME WHAT IS WRONG-!"**

"Shit! _Mer_lin!" Arthur yelped, grabbing at his ear in pain at the sudden sharp burst of music.

"Ah! Sorry! Sorry! I forgot I had it on-" The music cut out. "I'm so sorry. It helps me think. I didn't know it would link to you-"

"Just shut it," Arthur growled. He looked up, to find his Knights looking at him strangely. Morgana, of course, looked amused.

He glared back, tapping his communicator, switching to the Colosseum's control room. "Run the NH85 night sequence."

"Aye, Cap." The entire Colosseum went dark, the kind of dark that was so complete, so dense, that a person couldn't even see a hand held an inch from their face.

"This is a stealth mission, an exercise designed specifically to force you to rely solely on your Navigator for guidance. Control room, random spawn points."

A slight shift, then a rush of air and slight vertigo as the floor pads they had been standing on moved, taking Arthur and each Knight to different parts of the simulated environment—a forest, if the feel of vegetation brushing against his skin was anything to go by.

"Control room, block out all communication between Knights." Arthur ordered when his pad stopped. Then he reluctantly switched back to Merlin. "Merlin."

"Arthur?"

"Blind as a hairless mole rat down here. Any ideas?"

"I don't, but he does. Enemy fighter, dead ahead and gaining."

Arthur turned swiftly, but before he could take a step—"Behind you, eight paces, dense clump of trees. Hide there."

Several years' worth of experience in listening to the tinny voice of a Navigator in his ear covered his surprise and instinctive mistrust as he took the advice, spinning around and blindly sprinting the eight paces to the clump of trees.

He hid himself just in time, as a light sliced through the black. The simulated person stopped, as if listening…

An alarm rang out through the quiet, sending a jolt of shock through Arthur's system. The SP spun around, sprinting back through the dark.

When it was gone, Arthur muttered, "Who got caught?"

"Gwaine, if Will's swearing is anything to go by."

Arthur snorted. He'd probably blame it on the hangover.

"Arthur, the rendezvous point isn't far, but there are a lot of SPs sniffing around."

"Obviously. It wouldn't be a challenge otherwise."

"…Whatever you say, Captain Clotpole."

Arthur froze. "_What _did you just call me?"

"S'nothing. Just thought you needed a better codename. SP, 6 o'clock."

Arthur darted out from his hiding place, partly crouched on the balls of his feet to minimize noise. Though he wouldn't put it past Merlin to give him wrong directions out of spite, he shelved his personal feelings for the moment and just went with it, responding to the directions Merlin fed him smoothly, instinctively. Occasionally, the alarms went off, with Merlin dryly telling him who got caught without being asked. Elyan, then Percy…

Just when he thought (hoped) he would hear Morgana's name, a bright circle of light appeared around his feet. He'd reached the rendezvous point.

"Naviglobe went dark. Guess we've arrived."

"Yes," Arthur answered tersely, crossing his arms.

Another glow appeared shortly thereafter, revealing Morgana's disheveled but smirking face. "Captain." Arthur glared back.

A few more minutes later, and the last Knight arrived—Lancelot, also disheveled and breathing heavily, as if he'd just run a race. Arthur nodded to him, grudgingly approving of his newest Knight. The other smiled hesitantly back, dipping his head.

With his arrival, the glowing circles disappeared, and the lights came back on, temporarily blinding everyone. Then three large capsules rose out of the floor, depositing Gwaine, Elyan and Percy before disappearing again.

"Congratulations, you're _dead_," Arthur half growled, half announced to them. Elyan and Percy had the decency to look almost ashamed; Gwaine, however—

"Funny. I always thought hell would look a lot like the Colosseum…"

Morgana snorted. Lancelot smiled. Even Merlin giggled in his ear. "Well good. You can make yourself right at home, because you three are going to run it _again_. Morgana, Lancelot, with me."

Triple groans followed after him as he marched away.

Arthur led his second and Lancelot off the field, up to the Navigators' perch high above via an inner staircase. He was very keen on seeing the mission playbacks…

Training mission playbacks were viewed in a slightly smaller room connected to the Navigators' perch (an exact replica of the one in the Knights' Tower in London) through a projector that projected on a wall painted white for that very purpose. As great as technology was in this day and age, Arthur still found he preferred this 'old fashioned' method the most.

Gwen, Leon, and Merlin were already there waiting, when they arrived. Merlin grinned at him, the same idiotic grin from last night. Arthur ignored him, taking his place at the projector as Lancelot and Morgana joined their Navigators on the row of chairs in front.

Merlin didn't join them. Instead, he rather pointedly stationed himself at Arthur's elbow. Or so it felt like to Arthur. He could feel the heat coming off the other as he started up the projector.

"Who first? Let's see…Morgana." He loaded the footage into the projector.

It was nothing special. The commentary between the two was completely professional. Leon was pretty good; he got her out of several tight spots rather easily. Arthur praised accordingly, causing both to puff up a bit with pride. Morgana lightly nudged her Navigator, grinning when he blushed a little.

Behind the projector, Arthur rolled his eyes, switching the footage to Lancelot and Gwen.

The first few encounters were incredibly awkward—not because the advice given was bad, or that Lancelot refused to listen to Gwen, but because they were just _too polite_ with one another. Suggesting directions as if it were up for debate, rather than Gwen feeding Lancelot absolute directions. But after that they seemed to click, falling into an efficient rhythm. Still with too much extraneous talking, but that was fixable with time.

"Gwen, you have good instincts. You just need to trust in them more. Lancelot, observing is good, but especially in a blackout situation like this, you need to trust in what your Navigator tells you more than what you see with your own eyes. That almost got you caught there." They accepted his criticism, absorbing it like sponges. Lancelot even nodded along, a look of studious concentration on his face.

Next, was his footage. Uther once expressed his vigorous objection to Arthur for opening himself up to criticism from his underlings (Uther's words, not his), but if asked, Arthur would be the first to admit that he was as human as any of the Knights who served under him, and thus just as prone to mistakes. And besides, as prone to taking the piss out of him as Morgana was, her honest opinion and insights proved very useful to Arthur over the years they'd worked together. So he put in his footage. And was shocked with the result.

Uther had said Merlin was a 'wizard' with a Naviglobe command console, and it certainly was no lie. Leon and Gwen's side of their screens in their footage had been mostly trained on their respective Knights, with occasional skips and scans forward and around for danger. Merlin's was all over the place, constantly checking, scanning, analyzing, almost too fast for Arthur to absorb it all, all while keeping a running dialog with Arthur. He didn't miss a beat, on the console or the conversation.

But the cherry on top came at the end, right before Arthur reached the rendezvous point. He had been surrounded by several SPs, but Merlin guided him through so expertly, Arthur himself hadn't even been aware of the danger.

Arthur turned, staring in shock at the gawky, awkward youth beside him as the footage cut out.

"What? Why're you looking at me like that?" Merlin was completely, honestly oblivious to the cause of Arthur's shock. He didn't seem to realize how frankly amazing his skills were.

Arthur recovered, clearing his throat. "Surprisingly good job, Merlin."

The other opened his mouth—probably to reply with something cheeky—but was interrupted by the door banging open.

"We have returned, oh Captain."

The next few hours were spent with both Morgana and Arthur evaluating the new footage-which irritated the three in question to no end, but there was not a single word of protest. Perhaps because they knew he might just make them run it a third time if they complained.

Finally, Arthur took pity on them all. "Go on, get out of here, all of you. More training, bright and early tomorrow."

There was a small, relieved chorus of 'yessirs' and 'thank Gods' (Gwaine and Will) at that. Arthur smiled slightly, holding the door open as both Knights and Navigators filed out. He shook his head, fond of his motley crew in spite of himself.

He was just taking a step to follow after, when the sound of a throat clearing stopped him. He turned, to tell Merlin to stop creeping up on him like that—except it wasn't Merlin. Uther looked at him, no trace of last night's humor or tipsiness on his face. A look like that could only mean one thing. "I'm not going to like what I'm about to hear, am I?"

"I'm afraid not, Captain." Uther approached, eyes dark, face grave. "The schedule has been moved forward drastically. An attack has occurred."

"_What_?"

"It can't be linked to our enemies as of yet, but MI6 has brought forward disturbing evidence that a small hostile force might still be in England. The Knights will be dispatched tomorrow for a recovery and evacuation mission. Small villages in the area were attacked. The full brief has already been sent to your room. After dinner, gather up your team and tell them."

"But Uther, training just started-"

"I know, Arthur. But the people need their Knights _now_, ready or not."

"…Yes, Uther."

**A/N: The plot! It moves! It's alive! *ahem* Sorry, no Merthur as of yet, but it's coming, I promise! It's just taking a bit.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So much bonding in this chapter. Sooo much. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 3**

For the first time in a long time, Arthur did not want to call up a meeting. His feet felt like the soles of his boots were filled with lead, and they seemed to get heavier with each step. But, he reasoned to himself, it was better that they were hearing this from him and not through the cool, impersonal words of their holoscreens the next morning.

He took a deep breath. This was unexpected. But they were ready. They would get through this. They were a brilliant team, expert soldiers…

He pushed through the door to their common room, where he told them to meet him after dinner. The chatter died out as he came in. Eleven faces, backlit by the glow of the sim-fireplace. Eleven hearts he was about to break.

"The Knights ship out tomorrow," he announced. No lead up, no gloss. There was about a second of dead silence as the announcement sunk in. Then a burst of noise as everyone tried to talk at once.

"Training's just started! They're not ready-" Morgana

"We've just been paired! They can't possibly have expected us to learn that fast-" Lancelot and Gwen.

Arthur held up his hands, calmly asking for silence. He waited until he got it absolutely before continuing. "This wasn't the plan, no. But England's enemies decided on a different agenda. Villages on the border have been attacked, and their attackers might still be in the area. England's people need Her Knights today, rather than, say, in a month. But listen to me when I say you _are _ready for this. All of you. I have seen each one of you in action—some of you longer than others," here he looked at Morgana, Gwaine and Percy, his more seasoned Knights. "I have seen each of you work together today. And I can honestly say, if _anyone _need be afraid, it's the cowards who dared to attack England's citizens on her own soil!"

Will, Gwaine and Percy hooted, drumming on the coffee and side tables. Gwen and Lancelot looked relieved, while the others cheered. Not everyone seemed soothed, however. Morgana looked at him with eyes that promised a more in depth discussion behind closed doors. Arthur didn't look forward to that—displeasure rolled off his second in waves. Angry Morgana was not a nice Morgana to deal with, to say the least.

The other was…Merlin? He caught the blue-eyed youth's eye by accident as his gaze swept over his team. Merlin tried to smile, but there was evidence that he'd been chewing his lip with worry—it looked redder than usual. His own Navigator wouldn't be soothed by pretty words. Perhaps they were a better match than Arthur previously believed.

"All right, all right," Arthur growled, tearing his gaze away from Merlin's. "Stop that racket and go to bed, all of you. We have a long day ahead tomorrow."

Token grumbles followed the statement, but they all too quickly dispersed. Arthur turned away, heading for his own room, knowing without having to look that Morgana would follow him.

He had just cracked open a cold soda when she stormed in, closing the door behind her with a jerk of her arm.

"What the _hell _are you and Uther thinking? Scrambling the Knights _now_? They're nowhere near ready, Arthur Pendragon, and you know it!"

"It wasn't my idea, Morgana," Arthur muttered tiredly, suddenly feeling much older than his twenty-three years. "And Uther has no choice. The homeland forces are still shot after the last war, with recruitment levels at an all-time low all across the board. He can't send in the official army without possibly causing an incident and inciting _another _war. We're all he's got right now. All _England's _got."

Morgana's face went paler and paler with every word he spoke. Uther hadn't kept her as up to date, apparently. "So if we fail-"

"There is a good chance England will fall to the wolves, the kind that are not known for their mercy." No platitudes had come to mind, not that they would have worked on her, anyway. Silently, almost as an afterthought, he offered her a soda.

She shook her head, looking faintly sick. "I think I might need something a bit stronger than soda."

"Now you're starting to sound like Gwaine." The attempt at humor was glaringly pathetic, but Arthur was a soldier, not a comedian. Humor wasn't his strong point, even on his best days—and these were far from his best days.

She gave him a weak smile for his efforts, anyway. She looked like Arthur felt—deflated. Arthur almost wished he'd just let her yell. "We'll be all right, Morgana."

She nodded, something that looked dangerously like hope lighting her dark eyes. "If it were anyone else leading us, I wouldn't believe that."

Never had any words spoken to him felt more heartening—or more crushing. He forced his lips to stretch into a tight smile. "Good night, Morgana."

As the door closed softly behind her, he stared at the hard copy of the brief piled on his desk, the cold from his soda soaking into his palm. A lot of what was in it—everything he'd just told Morgana, basically—was never intended for his eyes to see. Uther could lose his job, even be charged with treason, over it. Arthur knew exactly why he did it—so he would know and understand exactly what was at stake, not just for the upcoming mission but for all the missions to come. Uther had never been one to pull punches, and Arthur had always appreciated that of his mentor…but this time, he almost wished he had.

"Arthur?" Arthur's head jerked up in surprise at the sudden sound of a soft voice.

"Merlin?" he wondered how long the other had been standing there—and how much he'd heard.

Merlin grinned at the surprise in his tone, but there was something different about it—almost like it was forced, too.

"Don't worry, Captain Clotpole. You've got me to watch your back."

Instead of bristling at being called a 'clotpole' again, he laughed—surprising himself as much as Merlin. "Go to bed, idiot."

Merlin gave a thumbs up, but right before he disappeared into the darkened hall beyond, Arthur heard himself call out, "Merlin?"

The tousled head poked around the door frame. "Hmm?"

"….Thanks."

He grinned—a real grin, this time—before disappearing into the dark. Arthur shook his head—as much at himself as at his Navigator—turning to his own bed.

**….**

The next morning saw Arthur at a fitting again—this time for battle gear…the real thing, not what they played with in the Colosseum.

This was not Arthur's first rodeo. Trickler, self-styled 'tailor' and the Knights' tech outfitter, greeted him like an old friend. He squeezed Arthur's hand with a faint smile. "You again? Miss me already?"

Arthur forced a smile in return. "You wish."

"Oh I _do_," the tailor joked lewdly, gaze sweeping up and down Arthur's body as he went to fetch Arthur's kit. Arthur shook his head. And to think, he used to be creeped out by the older man's ah, _forwardness_.

The mood shifted when he came back. There were no more attempts at jokes, lewd or otherwise, as Trickler slipped the light-as-air vest/breastplate over Arthur's head, just a tight smile. As the tailor did the buckles and added gloves, Arthur was suddenly sure he knew how a lamb being dressed for slaughter felt.

Arthur shook off the feeling as Trickler straightened. He had a syringe. He wrinkled his nose in sympathy at Arthur's grimace. "Usual kit, love. You know how it goes."

Arthur nodded, thrusting out his arm reluctantly. In order to pinpoint their location on the field—the _real _field—and thus 'see' them properly, the first Navigators had come up with a chip, about the size of a very small pill, which was injected under the skin. This GPS tracker also fed back information on the Knight's vitals directly to his Navigator's command console.

Arthur tried not to flinch at the sting of injection, but didn't quite succeed. Trickler acted as if he didn't notice, slipping a small bandage over the wound with a flourish. "Now for the more enjoyable portion of our programme: the toys. Tom?"

Tom appeared from the other room, wheeling a large case. No matter what, Arthur's heart always leaped with excitement when he saw that case. Trickler was a tech 'wizard' when it came to not only armor but weapons as well—of the hand-held variety, anyway.

"First thing: iris cam. So your Navigator can see what you see." Arthur raised an eyebrow, but took the two clear, contact-like cameras without comment. Trickler waited until he put them in before turning to the top part of the case.

"This one's Tom's little darling. We call her Excalibur v2.0."

Arthur expected something big—a souped up handgun, perhaps. What he wasn't expecting…was a sword and shield.

"A sword and shield? Really? In this day and age?"

"Pendragon, you wound me." Trickler grabbed the sword's pommel and twisted it. The blade hummed, the notches on either side (where the edges were supposed to be) filling up with a laser. Tom handed Arthur the shield. It was a strange thing, light like the body armor and see through, though some parts of it shimmered in the right light.

Trickler smiled, reverently handing him the sword. "Is that all it does? Glow?"

"Button under the crossguard." But when Arthur's thumb drifted to it—"_Only _for emergencies, Captain." Arthur pulled a face.

Later, Arthur was moving along the boardwalk, towards the helipad, fully outfitted once again, from the earpiece in his ear to his boots.

For a second, he almost felt…good, something like excitement pulsing through his veins. For a second, he could forget what was riding on his shoulders on such a bright, clear morning.

Then Merlin happened.

"Hellooooo? This thing on?"

Arthur sighed. "Is there a reason why you're using the communicator to speak to me while I'm still in the compound?"

"Couldn't find you, and you didn't come say goodbye."

"You _do _realize we'll be in constant contact throughout the mission?"

"…Yes. But it's still polite to say goodbye when going away for a while. Everyone else did."

Arthur snorted. "I didn't realize you were such a _girl_, Merlin."

Merlin decidedly ignored that little dig. "All right?"

"Never better." And despite the interruption, and the transport looming ominously ahead, that was still true. For the moment, at least. "Got anything else to add?"

"Nope. No rousing 'let's go save the world' type speeches come to mind. That's more _your _area of expertise, or so I hear."

Arthur snorted again, covering his mouth to silence the laugh that threatened to follow. Good to know that Merlin had regained his cheek, at any rate.

"All right, I'll admit, it wasn't my best. But it was what they needed to hear. Well, most of them." Morgana instantly came to mind, her disapproving stare permanently burned into his memory.

"All piss-taking aside, it _was_ pretty good, as speeches go." They fell into a surprisingly comfortable silence after that. Arthur could hear his footsteps echoing as he came out into the courtyard where the transport awaited, engines humming.

Just before he clambered up into the chrome and black monstrosity's belly with the rest of his Knights, he heard: "Arthur?"

"Hmmm?"

"Watch yourself out there."

"Oh, but Merlin, that's what I've got _you _for."

**A/N: and so concludes chapter 3, the most bonding-filled chapter yet! I swear, if my imagination's Merlin acts any cuter, I'm gonna get cavities. Seriously.**


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